Friday, May 21, 2010

That's What Friends Are For

Dear Diary:

Today was my buddy's birthday, and for a birthday present, his landlord gave him a nice little eviction....

Yeah, you heard me.

I was in meetings most of the morning, and when I got back my brother had send me an urgent text to call as soon as possible. When I made the call, I found out my friend was being evicted that very second.

Now, I hope you understand why I feel the need to write about this. Do I feel bad for my friend? Yes, I definitely do. He has been out of work for over a year now and is just trying to survive in this shitty fucking economy that we find ourselves in (although it is getting better, and if you don't believe me, see how much your retirement account has gained over the last year).

I called him and told him he could stay with me as long as he needed. So much for living by myself, which I cherished. But, I can manage. I am doing something for a friend that is needed. And I want to do it for him. I can't stand to see the people that are lose to me suffer. This guy was in my wedding. We have known each other since we were in high school. Although we don't see each other often (which is definitely changing as we speak), he is the type of guy that I can call whenever, and he will be there, no questions asked.

If there is a downside, it is that my living room now looks like a garbage truck vomited all over it. He had to pack stuff in whatever he could, which was large black garbage bags. I have literally doubled the amount of stuff in my house in one afternoon.

But I don't care. He needs me, and I am there for him, regardless of how much it may be an inconvenience to me personally. That is what friends do.

When I was going through hell over a year ago, I had people like that. If I can pay it forward even a little bit by doing this, then it is worth it.

But if he fucks up my kitchen and ruins my knives, I will cut off his balls.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Remember Me?

Dear Diary:

Yeah, I know I haven't been around much. I know I said I would provide weekly updates on how things were going with the weight loss. I know I said I would write about anything at some point. Blah blah fucking blah.

I have been a combination of busy/frustrated/annoyed/lonely/happy/sad/tired and oh, did I mention frustrated?

Well, here is an update on a couple things, as well as some mindless rambling (hey, it's what I do best!).

I stepped on the scale this morning, and am down to 252. That is 12 pounds total, in five weeks. Now, granted, that really came in one week of seven dropped, and one week of five. A couple of the weeks in there I had to deal with a pulled muscle in my back, work, and other shit, but I am on track, still, to reach my goal. So that's a plus.

I haven't been on a date in a couple months. That's not a problem either.

What is a problem is the fucking city government, or more specifically, trying to get a building permit for my deck from the fucking city government. Or maybe I should call it the "fucked up city government" because it has proven to be the most inefficient waste of money on the planet (and I know it has stiff competition).

My house needs a deck. There is only one exit to the main house, and that is the front door. This is a fire hazard in my opinion. With a deck, I have two exits.

With the deck, I am also able to finally move a bunch of shit into the back yard where there is already some shit, and have it all hauled away. This will allow me to open up a ton of space in my house and finish it off completely without having to constantly move shit around in it.

With a deck, I am also able to finally get a grill.

You see, and this might be hard to understand for some, but the grill represents a final piece. Why you might ask? Well, I will tell you.

I lost my fucking grill in the divorce. I couldn't take my little Weber with me when I moved so I left it at the old house. My year in exile in the suburbs was without a grill.

There is a weird but unique bond between a man and his grill. It's cooking meat with fire. It's the smell. It's where the guys hang out and bullshit when people are over drinking and eating. I don't know how to explain it, but it's a guy thing (and yes, I am well aware of the fact that women like grills as well and love to use them).

I want to get a grill the size of a compact car. One with a rotisserie spit. One that can cook and entire pig (figuratively obviously because I live in a city and I don't want to take up my entire back yard).

Grilling is an outlet for me. It is calming. I cannot buy a grill until my deck is done because I have no other place to put it.

I WANT MY FUCKING GRILL!!!